Mother's Child, page 18
“June, tell us a little bit about you–your work, family life…just a little background.”
“Well, I’m an accountant–or I was. I am a part-time bookkeeper now and full-time mom.”
“And did the accident have anything to do with you changing career goals?” Elizabeth’s voice came out from behind the lights.
“No, that happened a while ago. It was family things.”
“Tell us about your family…”
That is how the interview continued. Elizabeth asked questions and I answered them. When I had a hiccup with words or thoughts, we would stop so I could re-group, and Elizabeth would repeat the question, so we could re-shoot it.
At the beginning, the questions were fairly innocuous, work, kids, husband, how long I had lived in the neighborhood…just background information that was not too invasive as Elizabeth had promised when I agreed to do the interview.
Then the difficult question came.
“June, can you walk us through that day? Take us from being at work consulting with clients on tax issues and taking a quick break for lunch, to the accident. What happened? Take your time, I know recalling this can be difficult.”
And she was right. We had to stop a few times for me to compose myself, though I knew some of those dramatic parts would be left in. At one break, Maggie had to run into the kitchen to quiet Charlotte and Ernie; the sound of their energetic tutoring was carrying into the living room and onto the recording.
Another time, we had to stop because Elsie came home from school. She walked into the living room and was spellbound to see her mom sitting in front of a camera, all made up and lights shining in her face with a microphone hanging over her head.
As soon as I saw her I went into outraged mom mode, partially spurred on by the emotion of retelling that day. Ignoring the fact that we were filming, I set out to reprimand Elsie about her room.
“You get upstairs, pick up your clothes, make your bed, straighten out your dresser drawers, dust, and bring all those dishes downstairs! And don’t make any noise…we are filming.” I loudly scolded her as I rose from the couch.
“Geez okay, Mom. Prima donna much?” Elsie said loud enough for me to hear.
I sent Elsie a glare that said more than words and she made a hasty retreat up the stairs as fast as her little legs could take her. Then I returned to the couch and saw Elizabeth and the crew staring at me.
“I hope you got that little bit of real family life on film!” I quipped sending everyone into a much-needed moment of laughter.
“You should come by my house and record us!” Roger offered. “I’ve got three teenagers!”
“That was pretty real, but I promise we will cut it out. Maybe just share it on social media.” Elizabeth teased.
The doorbell rang just then.
“I’ll get it,” Maggie piped up and scurried out of the room toward the front door while we picked up the interview with the end of my story.
When we were done, Elizabeth checked with the cameraman and looked at parts of what was just filmed as she had done on and off during the process. Satisfied, she looked back to me.
“Well, that looks like it’s going to be really good, June. You’re a natural and the last part especially was very impactful.” Elizabeth made her way over to the couch and sat next to me. She took hold of my hands which I had folded neatly in my lap.
“So…I am pretty certain that is Kalea and her aunt Lashay at the door. I know that this is a private moment and we are invading that privacy. But just let it be what it is. Forget about us. This is about you meeting the life you saved. Okay?”
I nodded slightly.
“Okay. We all set crew?” Elizabeth changed her focus to Roger and Dillon, each of whom gave a thumbs-up. Then Elizabeth turned back to me. “Take a deep breath. Let’s bring in your guests.”
Maggie, who had been leaning into the room to eavesdrop for her cue, lead Kalea and Lashay into the room. I rose from the couch and stepped out from behind the coffee table to greet them. My heart was pounding. I didn’t know what to say or how to act. You can’t rehearse something like this–not if you’re human.
Lashay guided Kalea into the room by her shoulders and they stopped just in front of me.
Kalea looked beautiful. She was in a pretty blue dress with dainty white flowers, black patent leather shoes with a bow on each, white socks, and a light blue, flowered hair comb neatly holding back the bangs of her long, curly brown locks. She looked as though she had stepped out of a children’s fashion magazine. Her head was slightly lowered as her aunt eased her closer to me.
I knelt to be on eye level with her. I was about to speak–what I was going to say I didn’t know–when Kalea raised her head and brought her deep, doe brown eyes into contact with mine. I said nothing. Kalea said nothing. We weren’t being shy; we were both too emotional to speak.
My lips quivered as my heart tried to find the right words. Tears escaped from Kalea’s beautiful eyes, and my own tears followed. Kalea threw her arms around me and I hugged her close. Together, we sobbed. At that moment, there was no one else in the room. There was no camera or cameraman, no soundman, no Elizabeth. Almost as Elizabeth had instructed, we had forgotten them.
Kalea cried into my ear. “Thank you. Thank you for saving my life.”
“I’m so sorry that I couldn’t save everyone, Kalea. I’m so sorry.” I wept in response as Kalea and I continued our slightly spasmed embrace. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save your parents.” I softly spoke through my tears, giving the “everyone” an identity that was so painful to acknowledge.
We stayed in our moment out of time for another minute, waiting for our emotions to subside when we could join the rest of the world.
When we finally pulled apart, I tried to wipe Kalea’s tears with my sleeve, and used the other sleeve for my own eyes–without much success. I looked up helplessly to the others in the room. They were all crying.
The cameraman’s head was hidden by his machine, but I heard him sniffle. Dillon, while maintaining his grip on the microphone boom with one hand still placed overhead in just the right spot, was trying subtly to wipe his eyes with the other. Maggie stood with her arms crossed and a stream of tears running down her cheeks. Elizabeth clutched her notepad, digging her fingernails deep into the cardboard cover as she tried to be stoic and above the emotion. Of course, she failed the unhuman test and had to wipe her eyes more than once.
Finally, Kalea’s aunt Lashay, a mess of tears herself, stepped forward and handed Kleenex tissues to each of us; she was the only one who was truly prepared for the effect of this meeting. When I accepted my tissue, Lashay embraced me.
After a few seconds, she stood back but held onto my arms just above my elbows and looked me in the eyes to make certain I was listening to every word.
“Elizabeth told us you hate hearing this, but you are our hero. Kalea and I will always remember you and celebrate you and what you did.” Lashay was so sincere that she brought about another round of tears while I hugged her back.
During the entire scene, I was oblivious to what was going on around me. I didn’t notice that Ernie and Charlotte had come out of the kitchen and into the edge of the living room to see what was going on. Elsie, who was too curious to miss the excitement in the living room, had risked her mother’s ire to sneak back downstairs and witness me meeting Kalea and her aunt.
And all three were affected by the emotion they witnessed. Ernie walked up to me and gave me a big hug.
“Luv you Mom,” he said, with tears in his eyes. Then he headed back toward Charlotte and the kitchen. When he got about even with Elsie, who was standing in the hallway now, he stopped and walked back. He stood in front of Lashay, who was still holding the box of Kleenex. Ernie held out his hand. Lashay figured it out pretty quickly and handed Ernie a tissue.
“Three please.” Ernie requested.
Lashay counted out two more tissues and placed them into Ernie’s hand. Satisfied, Ernie walked to Elsie and handed her a tissue. Then he walked over to Charlotte and handed her one. Finally, he brought the third one to his face and loudly cleared his sinuses. He walked with Charlotte back to the kitchen.
Kalea, who was still at my side, held my hand and smiled up at me through her red, swollen eyes. The sweetness of the scene combined with its humor, had temporarily transformed the heaviness that had engulfed us all. It took a while, along with nearly the entire box of Kleenex, before everyone was composed enough to sit on the couch and return to the interview.
Chapter Eleven
My Brave Little Man
Elizabeth seemed pleased with the interview with Kalea, her aunt Lashay, and me. When we wrapped, I had everyone come into the kitchen for a cup of coffee–freshly made my way.
Charlotte had left by then and Ernie had retreated to his room for a nap. Elsie, I figured, was busy cleaning her room–hope springs eternal.
The entire event took about three hours which meant it was just after 5 pm when we finally broke. It was close to the time when Tim would come home. I walked Elizabeth and the crew to the door and said my goodbyes to Maggie, Roger, and Dillon. Elizabeth lingered after the others had headed to the van. Kalea and Lashay remained in the kitchen.
“June. Thank you. This meant a lot to me, but I hope too that you got something good out of it.” Elizabeth gave me a big hug.
“Yeah, all-in-all, I’m glad I did it,” I said, hugging her back. “I’m glad I met Kalea. I think we both needed that. I was trying so hard to ignore the emotions and avoid reliving everything. I wanted to downplay the entire event. Especially, I wanted to avoid feeling as though I failed Kalea by not saving her parents too. I didn’t know how to face her with that…that feeling of being responsible for their deaths. But, Kalea…she is such a beautiful young girl. And I felt that the minute our eyes met. I knew she understood my pain and that, in a way, I shared hers. Sounds silly I guess, when I say it like that.”
“No. No it doesn’t, June. And we all witnessed it. Some moments…just are. They don’t need words or explanations or judgments. They just need to be left alone. I think this meeting put a period to one sentence in Kalea’s story and to yours. It will always stay with you and her, and that is how it should be. But part of it has a special ending.”
“Were you a therapist in an earlier life?” I moved to my comfortable place of sarcasm to avoid another gush of emotions.
“No. But I was a psyche major in college. So…” Elizabeth shrugged with a grin. We gave each other one more hug goodbye. Just as Elizabeth reached the front door of the van she looked back at me, still standing in the doorway.
“Call me. We’ll have lunch,” she said, then realized how trite that sounded. “No, seriously. I would love to get together…soon! You have my card and numbers.”
“Yeah okay,” I said. “I can probably pry the gum off one of them.” I was pleased with my humorous self. But I knew lunch with Elizabeth was something I would look forward to, and that I would call her.
When I returned to the kitchen, Lashay was getting Kalea ready for them to leave as well. I felt sad when I saw them preparing to exit my life. It didn’t seem right that someone whom I had shared such a connection with was about to be a memory.
I stood for a moment, taking in the two of them, determined to make one of my little movies to play back in my head whenever I needed. That is how I kept special moments close to me, to remind me of the loving moments in my life that would get me through the rougher ones. This was one of those moments.
“Well, June,” Lashay said. “I have to get Kalea back home and get dinner on for her and my other two darlings.” She sounded exhausted.
“Oh my gosh. Dinner? Isn’t that what husbands are for? You know, call them and say ‘Hey sweetie, can you pick up dinner on the way home?’” I joked, but I had forgotten all about the time and dinner.
“Honey, I used that one last night. It won’t float two nights in a row,” Lashay quipped bringing out a chuckle from both of us. “Kalea, say goodbye to Mrs. Gallagher.”
Kalea ended our meeting as it had begun. She walked up to me, this time head raised and eyes looking up at me and gave me a big hug as I crouched to meet her. I hugged her back not wanting to let go. When I did finally release her, she looked at me with those penetrating brown eyes and said, “I love you, Mrs. Gallagher.”
I took her little face in both hands and said, “Oh, Kalea. I love you too.” I kissed her forehead the same way I did my own children.
“You know what, Kalea? You are going to grow up to be an amazing person and have an incredible life. And I hope I get to witness some of it.” I said, barely able to contain my emotions.
I stood and exchanged hugs with Lashay. I knew that our lives would most likely take different paths, but I hoped that I might be thought of on major events in Kalea’s life. I would love to share some of those, I thought.
Lashay led Kalea down the hall and out the front door. All that remained were final goodbyes and thank yous and just like that they were gone. I felt a rush of emptiness as I stood behind the closed front door of our house. A big Chapter in my life had been given an ending. Although I was grateful for that closure, I was equally sad that someone beautiful had left me.
It didn’t take long before my solace was interrupted. Elsie stomped down the stairs, thumping the vacuum cleaner behind her. She passed by me with barely a look and continued to the laundry room where we kept the vac. As I watched her, all I could think of was, “Did she actually use the vacuum cleaner?” Because I didn’t recall hearing it. When she returned from her laundry room trip, I confronted her before she could make her way back upstairs.
“So, is your room all nice and clean now? ‘Cause if it is, I’m ready to go inspect it.”
Elsie gave me a blank stare, followed by an exaggerated hug. “I love you so much, Mommy.” She said with a cheesy grin.
“And I love a clean room. So, is it?” I asked which broke her mood and her grip on me.
“I don’t know…is dinner ready Mom?” Elsie had turned to being snippy now which brought out another of my threatening looks.
“Okay geez. Fine. I just have to finish the bathroom and then do my homework.” Elsie blurted out and then ran up the stairs. When she reached the top, her bravery returned. “Maybe I can get some dinner after that.” She ran into the supposed safety of her room and closed the door. At least she knew better than to slam it.
My daughter is barely 13 and already the transition from sweet Elsie to ugly teenager is happening, I thought. Before I could continue considering all that “that” might mean, Tim’s car pulled into the garage. I met him at the doorway to the laundry room.
“Hey,” he said and gave me a peck on the cheek before continuing past me and into the kitchen. I followed him. He laid his briefcase on the kitchen table and then helped himself to a beer from the fridge. With the refrigerator door still open, he held the beer bottle up, considered it for a moment, and then put it back without opening it. He continued to stare into the refrigerator, looking as if he expected something wonderful to jump out at him, then closed the door and headed back my way.
I looked at him curiously.
“What?” He said. “I decided that I had more of a scotch day than a beer day so…yeah.” He headed toward our little bar cart along one of the walls in the dining room. I just watched him while he grabbed a glass, let out an irritated moan and walked past me toward the kitchen again.
“Forgot the ice,” he smiled and gave my cheek another little peck on his way. After he dropped two cubes in his glass, he headed back to the cart and poured a couple fingers of scotch He returned to just in front of me, took a sip of his scotch and sighed.
“Sooo. What’s for dinner?” He asked enthusiastically.
“I love you so much Tim,” I said giving him a cheesy grin before I threw my arms around him. I knew it hadn’t worked for Elsie, but this was Tim–not me, so I thought maybe?
“And I love dinner,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “which I assume has no chance of happening.”
“Oh God. This family is so….predictable.” I said releasing my hug. “Come sit on the couch with me and you can tell me about your “scotch” day and I can tell you about my day and why dinner is going to be late or…delivery.”
I grabbed Tim’s hand and led him to the couch. I took my corner seat and patted the space next to me. I was attempting to be as warm and inviting as my comforter and smiled lovingly at him. Tim looked at me with his puppy dog expression. Then a smirk broke through. He shook his head and said, “You are something else” while he plopped down next to me.
“So, tell me about your day?” I suggested.
“Uhmmm, well, actually,” he began, “It was pretty typical. Just a lot of meetings and number crunching so I thought a scotch would clear my head better than a beer. Nothing really out of the ordinary. Besides, I would rather hear about your day and how I am going to get dinner out if it eventually.”
I got up from the couch and went straight to the junk drawer in the kitchen. I pulled out a stack of take-out menus and then went to the stairway and yelled up to the kids.
“Elsie, Ernie…come get your dinner…quick! Elsie wake Ernie up if he’s asleep.” Then I went back to my spot on the couch.
“Here is dinner.” I said as I handed Tim the stack of menus. “I recommend the Greek place. They’re faster and healthier.” I added going back to my sweet, loving smile. “Oh wait, before you make dinner, could you get me a glass of white wine? There is some open in the fridge and I don’t want to have to get up again.”
I usually knew when and how far I could push Tim and when to back off. Sensing his good mood, I thought I would have a little fun.
